Mitch was proud of himself for giving the man behind the bar a thank you, two in fact, when he produced the menus and later Mitch’s change. The words had earned him a smile and a pat on the back from John, so it was all good.
They moved over to a booth, Mitch waiting for John to get in first. Then he took off his jacket and sat next to John, who was reading the menu. Mitch couldn’t help compare this evening with the first time they’d eaten out together. Although the menu was mostly beyond his comprehension, Mitch was able to pick out the odd short word. It gave him an enormous amount of pleasure that at last he was starting to join the modern world. And it was all thanks to the man next to him.
“Soap?” Mitch asked, confused.
“Where?” John asked, looking from his menu to Mitch’s.
Mitch pointed.
“Soup,” John said, smiling.
Mitch felt stupid. Yes, of course.
“Hey.” John sat up and kissed Mitch’s cheek. “Easy mistake to make. Everyone makes ones like that.”